January 18, 2016

Jan. 18

I hate reality Television. The irony kills me, the editing worries me. They have pre-determined drama for the viewership because who the hell wants to watch a show of people just.. living? There has to be a particular dynamic that lures an audience. I won’t have it. I prefer improv-driven shows, like Curb or The Office, where the actors are so in touch with their characters they can act as them on their own. Judd Apatow, one of my favorite producers/directors believes in improvisation as true comedy.

She was a cypress growing from a swamp; she manipulated her roots and though twisted, she grew strong and mighty above the thick swamp beneath her.

Here is a semi-mild description of a place:

We lived in a quiet region surrounded by rolling hills and redwood forests, just south of a desolate town most people drive right through on their way from the city 80 miles east, to the grassy beaches 10 miles west. Highway 22, known to the locals as the lonely road because of its dense emptiness and vacancies throughout. It was re-routed through Swollen Hills when wildfires took life in the forests surrounding the highway. A dangerous back-alley the bold natives use to avoid city traffic, now an overpopulated expressway. But it’s far enough away.

Spent my evening with Tina, talking about everything and nothing, like we had to spill our guts or something. We want to live in each others heads, which is both riveting and frightening. We like pretty words with meaning. I got her into the revels of following her sun sign, but we also studied the dynamic of Druid Sign. She is a true Nutwood.

I am a dazzling emblem of moxie.